Gotta be larger than life
by Norwegianne
Summary: Neville was running away from the monsters when he ran into Faith. Literally.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Gotta be larger than life.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: JKR created all things Harry Potter, and Joss Whedon created all things Buffy/Angel. I didn't.

A/N: Lucinda had a challenge on the forums of TtH. This was inspired by that, but as I didn't quite get all of the items of the challenge, I don't really consider it a response. It was more the inspiration. You should really listen to Bonnie Tyler's "I need a Hero" when you read it, though.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was running. Running as fast as his legs could manage. He could have apparated, so why didn't he?

Well, he could have, had he not forgotten where he'd put his wand.

Had he had his wand everything would have been much simpler. Then he could simply have done something with it, and the thing he was running from would have been rendered inactive. Or he could have been back home.

Well he could have done it, if he hadn't forgotten his wand at home. He had grown quite good with his wand, unless he was under a lot of pressure. Which, Neville wryly thought to himself as he continued to run, seemed to sum up this situation perfectly well.

Fuck the wand; he likely wouldn't have been able to drag it out in time anyway.

Just as he was about to turn the corner, and get out to the main road, where there would be cars, and real people, a motorcycle drove around the corner, and Neville ran straight onto it.

The motorcycle wasn't going very fast, as it had probably slowed down to be able to drive around the corner, but it seemed like Neville managed to hit it at just the right time, and the bike toppled over.

Neville and the driver of the bike flew horizontally across the road, and when they stopped he found himself on top of someone undeniably female. Very female.

"Ugh," the woman grunted and dragged her helmet off. "Want to tell me why you were charging at 70 miles an hour into my bike, dude?

Neville couldn't answer. When she had taken her helmet off, long dark locks had cascaded down, and dark eyes looked irately at him. She was very pretty. He blinked for a second, and remembered where he was.

Lying on top of a very attractive, albeit very pissed off woman.

He quickly gathered his wits and rolled off her. He could already hear Ron's response when he would tell him about it later: "You were lying on top of her, mate, and you did nothing?

"Well, you see," he turned to look back to where he had been running from. "There was a kind of thing back there, and I just hadÉ to run." He completed the sentence lamely.

"Well, now. A thing you say? I'm very fond of" she looked at his face and then let her gaze drop a bit, and Neville could swear she was grinning like mad. "Things.

He did the only sensible thing.

He blushed.

He was 25 years old, and he still blushed when anyone insinuated anything about sex.

How pathetic was that?

Of course, Hermione, Luna and Ginny thought it was sweet. But blokes weren't supposed to be sweet. Sweet lads got no dates. It was always the bad blokes who got the birds. The Draco Malfoys of the world, not the Neville Longbottoms.

Fortunately it was dark, and he prayed that this one wouldn't notice.

"So," she said. "Want to show me in the direction of the dangerousÉ things? They sound just like my kind of mission.

"Your m-mission?" he stuttered. Bollocks. Now she would probably jump on the bike and drive into where the sun had set hours ago, and he would never see her again.

She grinned, and got up from the ground. She stretched out her arm, and pulled him up as well.

"It's okay, I know that I'm not the sort that people expect to be a hero. And I'm not angry that you ran into the bike, either. Truth to be told, you just made my mission a whole lot easier. Which gives me more time afterwards for more pleasurable things.

Neville could have sworn she was licking her lips.

"Are you absolutely sure? I mean, wouldn't it be better for you to be anywhere but here?

"Sure," she chirped. "But unfortunately I pulled the short straw tonight, andÉ I really need to get this done. We wouldn't want it to be running around, hurting others, would we?

Neville pointed, reluctantly, in the direction from which he had come.

The woman charged off in the direction, her motorbike lying behind, seemingly forgotten. Much like, Neville presumed, he was.

He had better stay with the bike, though. Just in case anyone decided to nick it. It wasn't one of the better neighbourhoods of London, and quite frankly he didn't know what had possessed him to go to the club in the first place.

Had he known that that thing masquerading as a female, a very attractive female at that, was a vampire, he never would have followed her out in the alley from the dance-floor.

It astounded him that it hadn't chased him, as he had believed it would. But, when he wheeled the bike over to the side of the road, he had to admit it made a certain kind of sense.

Why would a vampire spend any energy chasing Neville Longbottom, when there were so many more attractive people inside, who needed no chase?

He was left to ponder that, and to admire the bike, until she returned for it ten minutes later.

"Wow, I'm all juiced up now," she wiped her hands on her dark jeans and grinned at him. "Want to go for a ride?

Neville supposed it was pure reflexes that had him looking behind him, for the person she _really_ was asking.

"Hey," she looked a bit more serious now. "Just you and me. Riding.

"O-on the bike?

"Why is it that whenever I make a simple comment about something people always assume I'm talking about sex?" she muttered. "Yeah, on the bike. At least for now.

He was pretty sure he was blushing again.

But since his wand wasn't around, so that he couldn't get back to his flat, and he didn't fancy staying around where he was any longer than absolutely necessaryÉ and she was attractive. Neville Longbottom found himself nodding.

"Well, then," she put her helmet on, and handed him one from underneath the seat. "You wear this, and make yourself comfortable, because you've just agreed to the ride of your lifetime, dude.

"My name is Neville," he said. "Neville Longbottom.

"I'm Faith!" She held out a hand, and he grabbed it, relieved to feel a pulse. "Shall we get this ride on the road, or what?

Neville got on the bike, and put his arms around Faith's waist. He could vaguely smell the leather from her coat through the large helmet.

And before he knew it Faith had started the bike and they were off.

The air wasn't hitting him in the face, he was too hidden behind her for that, but still he could feel it swooshing around him, and towards the hands that were folded on her stomach.

The ride wasn't that long, before he had properly savoured the feeling of being on an actual motor-cycle, something he had heard Hermione and Harry talk about quite a lot, and he had seen Harry on one, but never tried it, the bike slowed down and came to a stop.

He tried to let go of Faith, but discovered that his hands seemed to have frozen together around her body.

This was not how things were supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to have his hands around a beautifulÉ wait a tick. This was how things were supposed to happen, if you were anybody but Neville Longbottom.

You were supposed to have your arms around the bird on one point or another in the evening.

Granted your hands were probably not supposed to be so bloody cold that you couldn't remove them from the position, and you wondered if you had frostbite, but he still had his arms around her.

"You know," she said dryly. "You can remove the hands, now, if you really want to.

"Can't," and he was sure he was blushing. "They're stuck.


	2. Chapter 2

They barely managed to get into the tiny lift in her building. Faith cursed a lot, and Neville felt like running away and hiding. This was not how things were supposed to happen.

He was finally invited home with somebody. Or actually he hadn't been invited home with her, just for a ride. And then his arms hadn't cooperated. But he was finally going home with somebody. And she was cursing like a sailor with 30 years of experience under his belt.

"I'm sorry, yo. It's just that I prefer the stairs," she twisted around to look at him. "The more I get to use my body, the better.

Neville blinked, and tried to take in all the implications of what she'd just said.

"Uhm… No problem?" he managed to croak out. "I'm really sorry for all of this.

"Psh, don't worry about it. I know you didn't mean to.

The elevator stopped, and Faith tried to barge out, only to be stopped by the extra appendage she had.

"Sorry, I forgot. Are you ready?

"Y-yes. I think so.

"Great, let's go into the warmth of my place, then.

She strode ahead, and Neville stumbled after.

"Oh, fuck!" Faith exclaimed when she opened the door. Neville, who was partially hidden behind her couldn't quite see what she was swearing at, but he discovered that seconds later. "Xan, what the hell are you doing here?

A bloke with dark hair was sitting in a sofa, drinking from what Neville believed to be a coffee mug.

"I was" he noticed Neville. "In the neighbourhood and thought I'd stop by for a word with my favourite gal.

"Fine. There were three. One of them was going after Neville here," she gestured behind her in Neville's direction. "When he decided to run into my bike.

"Ouch, you alright man?" The bloke looked concerned at him.

"Yeah," Neville tried not to wince as he thought back to the vampire. "She was a vampire, wasn't she?

He finally managed to get his arms loose, and stretched his fingers. Defence Against the Dark Arts had told him little on how to defend himself against the Dark Creatures. Though his seven years at Hogwarts had given him one valid rule on how to deal with situations like these: Always be in the presence of Harry, Ron or Hermione.

Most of what he knew was self-taught from experiences when he'd been around either one of those three. Of course the risk for dying young also increased in those cases.

"Yeah," Faith went over to the kitchen area and got two mugs from one of the cabinets. "She was.

"It certainly explains her funny face," he commented calmly, already having deducted it back at the club. "And the pointy teeth.

"Why isn't he more freaked out about this?" The guy on the sofa asked. "The first time I… well. Let's not go there and say we did.

"I kind of know about vampires already," Neville offered.

"Let me tell you something, Squirt," Faith said. "You take cream or sugar?

"Coffee? I prefer it straight.

"Okay, here.

She handed him one of the mugs and he drank the hot liquid. It tasted like sewage, but at least it was hot. So hot that he burned his tongue, actually.

"Whatever Anne Rice book you've read, or if you've gone straight to the original itself, I'm here to tell you that real vampires are nothing like that," Faith drank hungrily from her mug. "Real vampires are nasty creatures, most of whom never sleep in coffins.

"Faith?" The other bloke got up from the sofa. "While you're in an educationary mood, I think I'm going to head home.

"Okay," Faith didn't move her eyes from Neville. "I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Neville looked right back at her, and neither of them noticed the other man leaving.

"Where was I?" she asked.

"You were informing me of vampires," he said calmly and took a sip of the mug.

"Right," Faith seemed to zoom in on him, and before he knew it she was kissing him.

Kissing him quite a bit, actually.

And at that precise moment Neville Longbottom lost the coffee mug he was holding.


	3. Chapter 3

Neville had no idea how he ended up in Faith's bedroom naked.

All he knew was that one minute he was being kissed like his life depended on it, and the next he was naked in a bedroom.

A bedroom that belonged to a person of the female sex.

It was the ideal situation, some would say. Neville didn't think so. How clumsy was it possible to get?

Dropping the coffee mug at that moment was worse than melting cauldrons in Professor Snape's Potions class.

He bet that Malfoy never dropped a mug half full of warm coffee when he was snogging someone. He bet that it didn't happen to Ron or Harry either. It was just a thing that happened to Neville Longbottom.

Being naked in a woman's bedroom because he had spilled coffee on all of his clothes.

His clothes were in the washer, because Faith had insisted on it. He had also spilled on Faith's clothes, but she wasn't naked in here with him.

Why would she? She was probably regretting inviting him in for some coffee, and trying to find a way to get rid of him. Looking over at the bed he spotted a bedspread that he reluctantly wrapped around himself.

He was sure that Faith's opinion of him couldn't possibly sink lower than it was presently.

When he was wrapped tightly enough in her pink, satin bedspread to satisfy his own modesty he decided to try to find his hostess.

He wobbled along into the kitchen, and found her there cleaning up after the mishap earlier.

She had changed out of the skin-tight jeans she was wearing earlier, and was now wearing an oversized t-shirt. Just an oversized t-shirt.

Neville swallowed nervously and stepped forward.

He wasn't accustomed to situations like these, he was painfully aware of that, thank you very much. It wasn't as if it hadn't been pointed out to him several times over the years, latest by Malfoy earlier the same day.

"If you have something I could wear, I could quite easily be out of your hair," he said and she turned around.

The front of the oversized t-shirt had a picture of a bed on it. There was a person in the bed, who apparently dreamt of a bloke named Roarke.

"You're not in my hair," she said and shook her head a bit. "We've barely begun the night, Neville. Unless you have something you need to do?"

"No," he couldn't seem to look away from her bare legs. "I've got nothing much that needs to be done tonight. I just figured…"

"You figured what, Neville?" She was moving closer, and he stepped backwards.

"I thought you might be wanting to have a quiet evening in."

"I'm a vampire slayer, Neville. Do you know what that means?"

Neville frantically tried to remember anything from his years at Hogwarts or from his years as an exterior-decorator that would bring light upon what a Vampire Slayer actually was. He came up short and decided to go with the obvious.

"Er, you make the vampires disappear?"

Faith moved forwards again, and Neville moved backwards. Unfortunately Faith's pink satin bedspread was a bit too long, and he fell backwards with a thud.

Luckily he didn't hit anything on the way down, being knocked unconscious would be more embarrassing than the rest of the things that had happened. But he just fell, and got the wind knocked out of him.

"Well, yeah," Faith said, looking down on him. He felt his cheeks redden to match the bedspread, and looked anywhere but at her face. "We do that. But after we've dusted the vampires, we get either hungry or horny. Me, I prefer the horny side effects. At least when I have someone to help me scratch the itch."

She couldn't be serious? Neville had never met anyone like Faith. At least no other female that talked like her. And if they did they certainly did not do it in his presence.

Faith got down on the floor, and with a teasing smile she tugged on the bedspread he had wrapped around him.

"Pink isn't really your colour," she commented.

"I… I would hope not," he spluttered. "I don't think satin is my material either."

"But don't you just love how smooth it can feel against your skin?"

Her hands trailed around on the bedspread, moving dangerously close to certain parts of him that Neville suddenly became painfully aware of.

"How cold it can be and how hot it can get?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm just going to scratch my itch, if that's okay with you?"

As she continued moving her hands, Neville had problems finding reasons why she couldn't. And since he actually wanted her to do the things she was doing, why would he want to be the good fellow that everybody thought he was, and object?

Especially since Ron, Harry and everybody else would declare that he was completely nutters if they ever got to hear about it.

Neville released the tight grip he'd had on the bedspread and blushed.


End file.
